


Déjà vu

by prowlish



Series: commissions [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Feel-good, Fluff, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:59:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nostalgia is a feather that tickles at the back of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Déjà vu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nopal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nopal/gifts).



> commission for nopal! Thank you!

“Are you really serious right now?”

For once, it was Skids staring up at the ceiling -- at Getaway, sitting with his legs dangling out of an access panel. Getaway snorted as he leaned down to peer at his friend. “What, you can hang out in the ceiling but I can’t?” he said.

Skids rolled his optics. “It’s more the fact that you called saying it was something important, and I find you…” He gestured vaguely in Getaway’s direction.

“...Hanging around?” Getaway supplied.

Skids glared, and knowing that Getaway was probably grinning stupidly under that mask made him all the more stern. It would encourage him too much if Skids laughed at that. Luckily, he was rescued by the fact that Getaway couldn’t keep his trap shut for long. “Anyway, what _isn’t_ important about hanging out with your bestest bud?”

 _That_ made Skids roll his optics again. He crossed his arms. “You’re so lucky I’m off duty,” he grumbled, without much feeling. Either way, he took the offered hand up. 

“Nothing lucky about it,” Getaway said, but Skids didn’t reply. Not only could Getaway check, but they knew each other’s schedules, anyway.

On occasion, he wondered if Getaway was too pushy about the best friend thing. Skids still didn’t remember that huge chunk of time, and it would always bother him… even if he didn’t talk about it so much lately. But in the end he didn’t figure it mattered. Whatever the past had been, he was friends with Getaway _now_. The fact that he knew Skids before was just a bonus -- though for who, he wasn’t sure. Getaway always told ridiculous stories, and Skids always called slag, but that had turned into another game of theirs.

“Geez, I didn’t mean to drag you through a cloud of heavy thoughts,” Getaway remarked, effectively snapping Skids out of it. He shoved his friend playfully.

“Shut up,” he said. “What are we doing up here, anyway?”

Getaway shoved him back, snorting in laughter. “Hanging out in public is so overrated.”

“...and our habsuites are, too?” Another shove. Harder this time.

“Hey, I called up my friend, not a buzzkill!” Before Skids could scoff or respond in any way, Getaway full-on tackled him. “I am gonna put a smile on your face.”

Skids raised an optic ridge. “And how do you plan on that?” He squirmed, but Getaway had him pinned. 

Getaway hummed as he peered down at Skids. “I didn’t wanna use this out of my arsenal so soon… but desperate times…”

“What are you -- ack -- !!” Before Skids could register Getaway’s movements, his vents were hitching in helpless laughter.

Getaway was _tickling_ him!

“Why are you -- such -- gah -- such a _child_!” Skids choked out, writhing even more now, but Getaway’s fingertips found every susceptible seam and notion on Skids’ frame to keep him helplessly pinned and giggling.

Getaway was laughing himself and not at all responding to Skids’ insults and taunts. Skids’ intakes were starting to burn a little, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. In fact, something about it tickled the back of his mind -- a little isolated pocket of nostalgia.

\--But right now, his optics were starting to leak, and _that_ was downright embarrassing. Skids let out an impressive string of curses before he finally grunted -- “You fragger! S-Stoppit!”

To his surprise, Getaway’s hands paused. “Well,” he said. “Since you asked so nicely…” His hands slid gently over Skids’ plating, as though retreating, and stirring much different associations of that touch through his frame. Something else that nibbled on the back of his mind, a memory just out of access...

Until Getaway’s fingers slid _under_ some side paneling and pulled a full-on squeal out of Skids. And he’d thought the optic fluid was embarrassing! “Getaway!” he shouted. But finally, he worked an arm free and immediately slung it up to land a solid smack on Getaway’s faceplate. His fingers worked in an unconscious trick and the next thing he knew, there was a loud click, and Getaway froze as the mask suddenly came free.

Skids was just as surprised as Getaway. In fact, he was so stunned he nearly dropped the mask right on his face. But Skids was more focused on the features now revealed to him. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected, but Getaway looked… downright normal. Average nose, thin lips, a pleasing shape to his mouth… 

“Uh, sorry,” Skids said. “I didn’t realize… you okay?” He changed mid-sentence as he noticed the odd look on Getaway. Or so it seemed to him, being the first time he’d seen all of Getaway’s face.

“Yeah,” Getaway said, but his optics were still distant.

“Uh… you sure?” Skids raised his optic ridges. Getaway was responsive, but looked at him as though not really seeing him.

“Yeah,” he said again. “Yeah, just…”

“What?”

Suddenly, Getaway seemed in the present again. “Nothing,” he said, and grinned. Skids recognized it from the way his optics flashed, but the expression was as wide and bright as Skids thought it might be.

It was infectious.

With a snort of laughter, Skids shook his helm. “It’s _so_ not nothing if you’re grinning like that.”

Getaway laughed. “Nothing, honestly. Only a little nostalgia.”

“Nostalgia,” Skids repeated. He sounded incredulous, even as he left out his own niggling feelings. “Don’t tell me we did this often.”

Getaway chortled as he sat up straight. “Oh yes,” he said. “This is my secret weapon, after all.”

Skids rolled his optics. Again. “And what, I disarmed it by finding the manual release on your faceplate?” he snorted.

Getaway tilted his helm. “Well… not _only_ that.”

The blue mech arched an optic ridge, even as he finally sat up. “And what else could I possibly have done?”

Getaway grinned, as if hoping that that was what Skids would say next, and he grasped the sides of Skids’ helm and pulled him into a kiss.

Skids was shocked at first -- he’d thought about this, sure, but that was different than Getaway initiating it! But the kiss was warm and inviting -- and dare he say, familiar? The hands which had settled on Getaway’s frame to push him off his lap now grasped him tighter, holding him close. Getaway wiggled in his lap, pushing closer with a happy hum of his engine.

He still had that stupid grin on his face when they broke apart, too. Skids scoffed, pushing him away to hide the warmth on his cheeks.

“What? Nothing smart to say?” Getaway remarked.

“Get the frag off my lap.”

“That’s not what you _used_ to say!” he practically sing-songed. This time, Skids really did shove Getaway out of his lap -- an action met with only more laughter.

Nostalgia, huh. Funny how he felt it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [@prowlish](https://twitter.com/prowlish) on twitter!! :)


End file.
